SERVICE FOR EXCLUSIVE USE BY CLIENTS (8)

A while earlier, when the two of them were alone, Miki had added something to Mauro’s plan.

“Any doubts about what you have to do when those two are here, nephew?”

“None, Uncle.”

“Are you sure? Do we need to go over any details? Remember, you keep quiet until…”

“Don’t worry, not at all. Just one suggestion, Master.”

“Cut the crap. Besides, it turns me on more that, even though you address me formally, you call me Uncle. Tell me. What suggestion is that?”

“When I come out of the kitchen and they see me, I’ll get on my knees and you… you drink enough beforehand so you need to piss on me. Just like that, without warning, so they’re surprised. Don’t worry, afterward I’ll go to the bathroom, hook the hose up to the sink tap, and I’ll be back clean in no time.”

“And why’s that?”

“Uncle, those bastards need to see that even if I suck their dicks, the one I belong to and obey is you. You’re the one who must decide from now on who I shut myself in the bathroom or the storeroom with. And make it very clear to those two, to the guy with the churros, and to anyone.”

“And if I forbid you from ever again…”

“I’d accept it, don’t doubt that for a second. But it would be a mistake. First, it would leave me without the pride of answering, ‘talk to my uncle first. He decides.’ And then, you’d be giving up extra income. And just because I’m with others, you wouldn’t stop having me at night or whenever you wanted.”

Mauro fell silent, looking at him.

“And always with the right to leave me or not leave me with whoever you considered. I swear.”

Mauro placed his index finger on Miki’s lips, telling him to remain silent. He stood up and walked back and forth in silence.

It was clear: some secret battle was being fought inside his head. Suddenly, he came closer, standing just a few centimeters from Miki. He grabbed him by the shoulders and breathed heavily.

“Listen: I could go in there right now,” he said, looking toward the inside of the bar, “grab a thousand euros and give them to you. I could take you upstairs, have you pack your suitcase, and you leave forever. And forget about me. I could even give you a ring, a gold chain for you to sell… I could…”

Miki stared at his uncle, stunned, not understanding this unexpected turn.

“You only have to say it. And leave. And be free. Forget about me. Anything except staying if you don’t truly want to. I insist: you decide. I’ll say it again. I’d give you money to… But if you stay, let it be for… for real.”

“Mauro, I… you, to me…”

“Because if you stay, I don’t plan to give you up. Think about it. I’m a real bastard who, for one fucking time in his life, is being as clear and honest as he can. And I’m not usually that way. Go, boy! Go!”